


Don't Ever Doubt This

by notreallythatuseful



Series: How About Forever [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Relationship(s), mild panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9901025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notreallythatuseful/pseuds/notreallythatuseful
Summary: After Dan's confession, Dan and Phil figure out how to be together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of a series and probs won't make that much sense if you don't read the first part, but honestly live your life do whatever you want!! This is basically just a whole lot of fluff and also some panic towards the end that gets resolved by more fluff. The title of this one comes from 'I Love You, Honeybear' by Father John Misty. Enjoy!!

Three dates. That’s what they decide on after a few days of thinking about it and, when Dan will tolerate it, talking about it. They’ll wait three dates before any clothes come off, because Phil’s a goddamn gentleman who Dan still can’t quite believe he managed to find. He is inexpressibly grateful.

This morning, though, is a bit of a different story. Not that he’s not grateful, of course, but it’s been five days since his confession, five days of pent-up sexual frustration, and the first thing he realizes when he wakes up beside Phil is that he’s achingly hard. He groans almost imperceptibly, pushing the heel of his hand against himself to relieve some of the pressure. He was dreaming, he thinks, something about Phil. It’s hazy now, even in his first moments of waking, but he’s sure he remembers Phil moving fluidly between his legs, rocking up into him with Dan’s legs wrapped tight around his waist, his broad shoulders consuming Dan’s field of vision. _Please, please, harder_ , Dan remembers whining, and he whines now, unable to stop himself from curling his fingers around the head of his dick through his shorts. He wants Phil so badly, more than he’s ever wanted anyone; all those years have saying nothing have suddenly morphed into this new thing they’re navigating, something amazing and frightening and so, so fucking good. And frustrating. Dan lets him hips stutter into his hand once before he rolls over with a sigh, kissing Phil lightly on the brow before he stands to, for the fifth day in a row, jerk off desperately in the shower.

By the time he comes out, skin still ever so slightly flushed and a satisfied warmth resting low in his stomach, Phil’s awake and clattering around in the kitchen. Dan hears him even as he trudges up the stairs in his towel.

“Morning,” he says lightly in Phil’s direction, still not yet able to hold back the soft rush he gets knowing that they’re together. Phil smiles crookedly from across the kitchen.

“Morning,” he answers, voice still rough with sleep. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of Dan, who realizes at the same instant that he’s still half-naked and dripping wet. He runs a hand over the nape of his neck self-consciously.

Phil clears his throat. “You look beautiful,” he says earnestly, though a blush immediately creeps across his face. “Would you like some cereal?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dan responds, grinning wide enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “I’ll be right out.” He wants Phil to keep looking, wants to feel the heat of his gaze for just a little longer, but, after a moment, he shuffles away to change back into his pajamas.

“Not planning on leaving the house today, then?” Phil says dryly when he comes back out. Dan smiles sheepishly and takes the bowl of cereal Phil offers.

“Fingers crossed,” he says. “Honestly, I just want the internet today.” Phil follows behind him as they move to the lounge, curling up comfortably close to each other while Phil picks up the remote and scrolls down to their anime of choice.

“Sounds perfect,” Phil says, nudging his feet up under Dan’s legs. “I thought I might edit my video today, start setting up for the gaming video tomorrow.” He’s still in his glasses, his hair pushed up on his forehead, and Dan can’t help but stare, just a little, as he keeps talking. “And then I thought, if you wanted to, we could… we could go out to dinner?” His voice lilts up anxiously at the end of the sentence, eyes staring resolutely into the depths of his cereal bowl as if he thinks Dan will have changed his mind. Dan’s heart may very possibly skip a beat.

“Yes,” he says, a little too eagerly, and Phil looks up to grin at him. “It’ll be our first date, right? God, it’s weird to say.” He nudges Phil’s shoulder with his own, and Phil leans into it, laughing. “It’s good, though. I like it.” And he does.

They float downstairs to the bathroom after breakfast to brush their teeth, and for Phil to go through his ridiculous morningtime face cleaning routine. When he comes up from splashing water across his face, Dan’s there to kiss him, first softly, then greedily, the leftover water dripping onto the tip of Dan’s nose. Dan gives himself up to it, lets Phil run his hands carefully down his sides and his back, eventually wandering down to cup his ass. Dan moans, almost embarrassed at how vocal he is, but not quite having the time to care when Phil squeezes once in warning and then backs him up to the counter and lifts. Dan’s legs come up so he can hook his ankles behind Phil’s back, and they stay that way for a long time, kissing slow and wet against the bathroom counter.

“Was that alright?” Phil finally whispers, pulling back from Dan’s lips with a soft noise. He leaves his forehead against Dan’s, breath coming out in short minty bursts against his mouth. Dan unhooks his legs but leaves his arms where they rest on Phil’s shoulders.

“Yes,” he says back quietly. “It was really good, Phil. It’s always good.” Like they’ve been doing this for ages instead of five days, and that’s how it seems, with how close Phil is right now and how safe Dan feels. He’s not used to this, not used to feeling like kissing someone isn’t just a necessary step they take to fuck him. Not that he would be opposed to Phil fucking him.

“Ready for editing?” he says after a moment, and Phil reaches out a hand to help him slide off the counter. Dan doesn’t let go of his hand. Phil slots his fingers between his with a content sigh.

“I feel like there’s an editing tips joke to be made here,” Phil muses as they clunk up the stairs. “I just can’t quite think of it yet.” He grins in that way Dan likes, the very tip of his tongue against the corner of his teeth. Dan laughs, and oh God there are far too many jokes that their fans would make here, and for a moment he thinks about how they’ll tell them, if they’ll tell them at all, before panic sets in and his mind retreats hastily. That’s a problem for another time.

“You’ll get there,” he says back. They’ve reached the end of the hall now, each of them hovering outside their own doorways. Phil’s been sleeping in Dan’s room since that night, only returning to his room during the day to film and edit, and Dan imagines that he too is still not quite sure of how much space to give the other. The change has made things difficult, in some ways, but as Dan pushes Phil up against the wall and kisses him soundly before they separate, he doesn’t regret it one bit.

***

They stay apart for a few hours, calling out occasionally across the hall when Dan finds something exceptionally funny on Tumblr or Phil remembers a story he wants to tell. Eventually, though, Phil drifts back into Dan’s room.

“Can I sit?” he asks, and Dan groans dramatically but scoots over anyways, settling in so his arm brushes up against Phil’s.

“What time is it?” Dan mutters, eyes slightly glazed from what must be hours of scrolling. Phil closes out of the editing program on his laptop, checking the time before he closes it with a resounding thwack.

“Five thirty,” he announces, placing his computer on the floor and flopping over to stretch out obnoxiously over Dan’s lap. “Let’s get changed and find a dinner place, come on. I’m hungry.” He drags out the end of the word, downright whiny now, and Dan looks down with his best deadpan face at the six feet of manchild sprawled across his bed.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, clicking his laptop closed and putting it down beside the bed. “If you’d have knocked over my laptop, I swear I would’ve murdered you in cold blood.” He can’t quite keep the bite in his voice, as Phil’s looking up at him from his lap and he forgot just how blue his eyes were, and he’s smiling like an utter dork and Dan’s reminded all over again how much he loves him.

“Would not,” Phil counters, and sits up, though he leaves one of his arms slung across Dan’s legs. “Can we do Thai for dinner? I’ve been craving it for ages.”

Dan moans obscenely in response, something he’s used to doing jokingly to make Phil uncomfortable but which now makes him blush almost immediately. “I mean, yes,” he amends, and Phil breaks out in laughter. Dan can’t help but laugh too, a wide grin splitting his face as he watches his best friend double over, something warm and comforting settling in his chest. Because, he thinks, things are different now, but the best part is, they’re not that much different at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil go on their first official date. Dan has a minor crisis.

They each go to their own rooms to change, not quite trusting themselves to show that much skin yet without getting sidetracked, and eventually rally themselves enough to gather their things and leave the house. They’re not dressed up, and in truth it’s not a much different scene from any other night out, but Dan can’t help but feel a twinge of middle school-esque nerves at the thought of this being something real. A date. His eyes flit nervously to Phil, who grins and crosses his eyes, then immediately trips on the doorframe. Dan snickers.

 

It’s cold outside, colder than Dan had planned for, and he tells himself he’s crowding so close to Phil for warmth before he remembers he doesn’t have to fool himself anymore. He presses in closer. They can’t hold hands like he wants to, because the possibility of a fan seeing them is all too real, but this is enough.

 

The restaurant they end up in is one they frequent often, and the waitress gives them a familiar smile as they slide into a booth in the back corner to give themselves some semblance of privacy. It’s cozy, the soft-hued walls seeming to lean close in a comforting way, and the cushions adorning nearly every surface keep the noise to a lullaby-like drone. Dan and Phil have come here dozens of times since their move to London, enough so that the waitress, when she stops by the table, knows their order by heart. Dan feels warm, cocooned in the steady familiarity of the restaurant and of the person across from him. He kicks Phil’s foot gently beneath the table. Phil lets out a squawk of surprise and kicks back, resulting in a quiet scuffling kick war that comes to a stop of when the waitress approaches with their drinks. Dan watches Phil shoot to sit up straight in his seat, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and smirks.

 

“I like you,” Phil says matter-of-factly when the waitress leaves.

 

“Ugh,” Dan answers back, rolling his eyes to balance out the ridiculous grin on his face before sliding down just a little in his seat so he can hook their ankles together.

 

They stay like that for the rest of the meal, the easy physical touch between them almost electrifying against Dan’s skin. They had kept their touches fleeting before, easy to pass of as accidental, and he likes the change, the purpose of the contact. He likes that they can still talk, that they can still joke, that Phil can still slurp up his Pad Thai noodles so clumsily that one snakes up and smacks him in the center of the forehead, that Dan can still laugh at him until he’s snorting and people are looking at them out of the corner of their eyes. He likes Phil. He likes what they’ve become. He can’t stop catching Phil’s gaze and holding it, testing who’ll look away first. He almost always wins.

 

“Oh God,” Phil groans after a while, leaning back so he can puff out his stomach. “I have a Pad Thai food baby.”

 

“Same,” Dan utters in agreement, putting his spoon down with an air of finality. “What’s its name?”

 

Phil purses his lips, his feet tapping against Dan’s while he thinks. “…Egbert,” he says finally, and Dan lets out a bark of laughter.

 

“What the fuck,” he says, and the waitress slips their check onto the table. Phil picks it up promptly. “Your baby is going to have to live with that decision for the rest of its life. What have you done? And let me pay.” He reaches for the check, but Phil snaps the little book shut and waves it a little manically at the waitress, who crosses the room to retrieve it. Phil turns with a smug grin.

 

“Too late,” he says, to which Dan can only respond with a _tsk._

 

“Next time,” Dan says, and his stomach may or may not flip at the idea that there’s a next time, that Phil’s looking at him with an open brightness in his eyes he’s never quite seen before, that he and Phil can walk home together and he can push him up against the door, kiss him for all the times he wanted to kiss him, roll their bodies together and –

 

“Let’s go home,” Dan says hastily as soon as the waitress returns with Phil’s card. Suddenly he very, very much wants to have Phil to himself, and he’s cursing their stupid responsible three-date rule because he very, _very_ much wants all of Phil. They walk out into the night air, and Dan draws in a breath at how cold it is before Phil sidesteps a little closer and brushes their shoulders together. He’s ridiculously warm, and Dan leans into him.

 

“That was good, Phil, thank you,” he says honestly. Phil’s mouth twitches into a smile.

 

“Of course,” he says, bumping Dan’s hip with his. “I enjoyed it.” His breath curls out in silver strands against the winter darkness.

 

“One date down,” Dan says, and before he can stop himself he drops his voice and turns his head to Phil. “Phil, let’s reconsider the three-date rule, please, Phil, I really want you.”

 

“Dan,” Phil says in quiet shock, his eyes widening. “People could hear.”

 

“Come on,” Dan wheedles, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Phil. I trust you. Please, come on.”

 

“We can’t,” Phil says firmly, shaking his head, and just like that Dan’s stomach drops because what if Phil’s backing off, what if he doesn’t like him, and he’s just horribly embarrassed himself in front of a person he’s grown far too emotionally attached to and now he’s going to have to detach himself and it’s going to hurt so much, and he speeds up just a little bit, bitterness biting the base of his throat.

 

“Come on, Dan,” Phil sighs, but Dan isn’t really listening anymore, instead replaying how desperate he had sounded, how much he had given himself over without even thinking. They reach the door of the flat in a few more minutes, and he realizes with an ashamed pang that Phil has the keys. He looks down at his feet while Phil fumbles with the lock.

 

“Why are you sulking?” Phil chuckles as they make their way up the stairs. Dan opens his mouth to answer, finds he can’t. He keeps walking.

 

“Daniel,” Phil says, and now his voice is concerned. “Dan, hey.” He falls quiet until they reach the door to their own apartment, unlocking it before he grabs Dan’s elbow gently. Dan flinches.

 

“Dan,” Phil repeats, and Dan feels his heartbeat speeding up because _fuck_ he likes Phil, and he let himself forget he’s not likeable, that Phil would do anything to look out for him even if it meant lying to spare his feelings. He wants to lay down. He realizes hazily that Phil is stepping closer, and he tries to take a step back but realizes he can't move. 

 

“Alright, you’re having a small panic attack,” Phil is saying calmly, keeping him at arm’s length with his hand held firmly in his own because he knows Dan can’t be touched too much like this but still needs an anchor. Dan squeezes Phil’s fingers numbly. They’re sitting on the sofa, and Dan finds that he’s unable to breathe quite right. His chest moves shallowly.

 

“…be right back,” Phil’s voice says, and Dan nods in slow motion. He watches his hand curl and uncurl in his lap, tries futilely to breathe and feels it catch in his throat.

 

“Water,” Phil says, and a glass is pushed into his hand. It’s cold, brings him back a little, and he blinks a few times before he takes a sip.

 

“That’s it,” Phil encourages, sitting down cross-legged beside him. “Can you drink a little more?” Dan nods, gulps down a little more and finds that his breathing has slowed a little. He alternates between drinking and focusing on his breathing, back and forth for a long time before he feels the world beginning to settle back into place around him.

 

“Fuck,” he says weakly, unable to look at Phil. “I’m sorry, Phil. I didn’t mean--”

 

“Don’t apologize,” Phil insists, so genuine Dan’s heart tugs. “This is part of being with people. You take everything. I want everything.” He takes Dan’s hand.

 

“That is horrifyingly cheesy,” Dan says, a slight tremor in his voice betraying him. “I – thank you, Phil.”

 

“Of course, love,” Phil says. “Can you tell me what that was about?”

 

Dan tenses. He doesn’t want to say it, wants to at least hold onto his delusion for as long as possible that Phil could truly, really want to be with him, that this won’t all fall apart. He gulps.

 

“I – Phil, I--- fuck.” He shakes his head to clear it and feels the fuzzy remnants of panic still sifting through his brain. “Fuck. Phil, if you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. It’ll be okay. Just—please just tell me.”

 

“Dan,” Phil says, his voice hard. Dan’s shoulders push up in an automatic defense. He’ll be okay. He’ll be fine.

 

“Look at me,” Phil commands, and Dan looks up. “I do want to be with you. Now and a long time before this and forever. This is not a joke, or a lie. I fucking _love_ you.” His own eyebrows twitch together at his swear, but his eyes are burning. Dan feels all of the fear leave his body.

 

“We aren’t having sex right now,” Phil continues, “because we’re working each other out as boyfriends first. Like this. We need to understand this stuff. We need to be able to do this stuff. As a couple.” His hand clenches around Dan’s. “Because I want this to be good. I – I mean, I don’t know if you want… Well, I don’t know what you want, but I want this for good. I mean for good.” He blurts out the final part, fear flashing evident in his eyes, but Dan surges forward. He wants to hold Phil, to protect him, and in a swift movement he finds himself straddling Phil with his forehead rested against Phil’s. Phil’s chest is rising and falling quickly.

 

“Yes,” he whispers, and for a moment he lets their mouths rest just a hair’s width apart. He breathes in Phil’s breath, rests a hand on Phil’s heartbeat, covers Phil with himself as much as he can. “Yes,” he repeats once more, and then he closes the distance, and Phil kisses him back, moaning into his mouth. Dan lets himself fall forward, his forearms resting on the sofa behind Phil’s head as he kisses him rough and open-mouthed as if he can melt into him. Phil has his hands on either side of Dan’s face, and he licks into Dan’s mouth with a need that makes Dan’s breath leave him in an audible gasp. They kiss with a familiarity that makes Dan dizzy, a push-and-pull of Phil’s tongue against his and the soft noises of their lips. Phil’s fingers are steady against Dan’s face, and Dan is overwhelmed by the perfection of Phil’s mouth and the smell of Phil’s cologne all around him. He can’t help but roll his hips forward just a bit, painfully hard in his jeans. Phil’s hard too, and when the mindless movement of Dan’s hips causes their cocks to rub alongside each other, he bites down with a muffled groan on Dan’s bottom lip.

 

“Nngh,” Dan says articulately, his head dropping to Phil’s shoulder. His thighs are shaking from the effort of holding himself back, wanting desperately to rut himself downwards, quick and dirty. Suddenly he feels Phil’s lips ghosting down his neck, his tongue running along the tendons, and his mouth falls open slightly.

 

“Okay, okay,” he says breathlessly, and pulls back. Phil looks up at him with lust-blown eyes, letting his hands fall on Dan’s hips.

 

“I’m sorry, was that--”

 

“No,” Dan cuts him off, running one hand through Phil’s hair. “It was… It was really good. I just don’t know how much more I could’ve taken before I couldn’t, y’know, stop.”

 

Phil’s face is still slack from pleasure, his eyes almost predatory as he kisses Dan once more, then pulls back hesitantly. “Me neither,” he admits, and they both laugh, Dan still a little breathless. He clambers off of Phil’s lap awkwardly, wincing when he rubs against the inside of his jeans.

 

“I should probably go shower,” he says, face growing hot. Phil’s in no better state, and he nods a little too eagerly in response.

 

“Yeah, I’ll go to my room,” he says. He stands to go, a grimace of discomfort on his face, and Dan stifles a laugh. When Phil reaches the lounge doorway, he turns to Dan, concern on his face. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?” he asks gently.

 

Dan blinks once before he remembers that not twenty minutes ago, he was panicking. A rush of warmth hits him as he remembers how well Phil had handled it. He’d always taken these things so well, so ready to learn how to help Dan no matter the situation.

 

“Yeah,” Dan reassures him. “All better.”

 

Phil grins. “Good. Also. I like you.”

 

Dan snorts. “I like you too, dingus,” he answers, willing himself not to blush like a goddamn schoolgirl as Phil leaves the room. He’s exhausted, honestly, his whole body trembling from an adrenaline high and his brain half-melted at the emotional rollercoaster he’s put it through tonight. All he wants now is to shower, to wank off after what has turned out to be a very sexually frustrating night, and to go to sleep. He shakes his head to clear it and traipses down the hall to the bathroom. Most of all, he just wants to get upstairs so he can fall asleep next to Phil.

 

He huffs out a laugh as soon as the thought crosses his mind. Jesus Christ, he thinks. He has it bad. Luckily, he finds, he doesn’t mind at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok y'all to be totally frank I have never been in a relationship where we waited?? for the sex?? So I don't really understand being in a relationship where that is a thing and honestly writing an emotionally stable respectful relationship has been a real challenge. Tbh even when I was writing it I was like ok let's get to the sex and then I was like girl stop. Anyways sorry there's no sex yet but date 3 is on the horizon ;)))))) Sorry for the winky face thanks for reading bye


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